Lord Of The Rings: The War Of The Rohirrim review… | Little White Lies

Lord Of The Rings: The War Of The Rohirrim review – not canon-level

10 Dec 2024 / Released: 13 Dec 2024

Words by David Jenkins

Directed by Kenji Kamiyama

Starring Brian Cox, Gaia Wise, and Miranda Otto

Vibrant anime-style characters, including a woman with long red hair, a bearded older man in ornate robes, and a blonde man, seated in an ornate, dimly lit chamber.
Vibrant anime-style characters, including a woman with long red hair, a bearded older man in ornate robes, and a blonde man, seated in an ornate, dimly lit chamber.
4

Anticipation.

Looks like a creative and alternative solution to franchise expansion. Fun trailer too.

3

Enjoyment.

Some good stuff in there, especially Brian Cox’s voicework. But never really tips things over the edge.

3

In Retrospect.

Aggressively mid and safe. No where near a disaster, but not really canon-level stuff.

This ani­mé-style jour­ney to Mid­dle Earth dials back on risk and charm to robust­ly tell a sim­ple tale of good ver­sus evil.

There’s some­thing nag­ging­ly not quite” about this retro-vibed piece of ani­mat­ed Tolkien arcana, an attempt to fill in some con­tex­tu­al gaps for the author’s cel­e­brat­ed lat­er work while also strain­ing to feel dra­mat­ic and rel­e­vant in its own right. One pos­i­tive thing that must be said of Ken­ji Kamiyama’s The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim is that, as a female-front­ed Rings spin-off, it is supe­ri­or in its sim­plic­i­ty and pas­sion to the recent TV ser­i­al, The Rings of Pow­er, almost mock­ing that show’s con­vo­lut­ed desire to plug into and enhance the expan­sive lore of this world.

Yet it is infe­ri­or to anoth­er work with which it shares much DNA (in sto­ry, tone and aes­thet­ic), and that is Hayao Miyazaki’s 1984 opus, Nau­si­caä of the Val­ley of the Wind, in which a war­rior maid­en princess must sad­dle the pres­sures of a war insti­gat­ed by men in a world on the precipice of destruc­tion. The ani­ma­tion style might be best described as faux-Ghi­b­li, and while there are cer­tain­ly a few shots, sequences and char­ac­ters that look like they may have been plucked out of the Ghi­b­li­v­erse, there’s a cer­tain finesse and flu­id­i­ty that’s lack­ing – almost like it’s been tak­en out of the oven a tad too ear­ly, or there are a few extra frames that went astray.

Set some two cen­turies before the events that unfurl in the Peter Jack­son films, it is the sto­ry of Héra (voiced by Gaia Wise), a spir­it­ed, tomboy­ish minor roy­al of the Rohan region who is intro­duced attempt­ing to tame a giant-sized bird of prey hav­ing gal­loped her horse to the top of a snow-capped moun­tain. Back home, her gruff papa, Helm Ham­mer­hand, king of Rohan (Bri­an Cox), caus­es a bit of a diplo­mat­ic foul-up when resort­ing to a round of old school fisticuffs to set­tle a fair­ly mun­dane famil­ial dis­pute. Under-esti­mat­ing his own phys­i­cal clout, he acci­den­tal­ly one-hits his oppo­nent to death, court­ing the ire of the deceased’s son – emo tear­away Wulf (Luke Pasquali­no), who at one point was a poten­tial mar­riage match for Héra.

The inci­dent is swept under the rug and Wulf is ban­ished from the king­dom, but left to fes­ter alone, he gath­ers his mar­bles and hatch­es a cat­a­stroph­ic, scorched-earth ret­ri­bu­tion plan to not only get back at the fast-fist­ed Helm, but also put an end to his entire blood­line. And, if pos­si­ble, destroy all those over which he lord­ed. Fol­low­ing a fair­ly sedate set-up, the film leans into action/​warfare mode pret­ty swift­ly, and Kamiya­ma and his team do well to chore­o­graph the bat­tles and make sure an audi­ence retains a cer­tain lev­el of geo­graph­i­cal and spa­tial awareness.

The char­ac­ters are cer­tain­ly lik­able, and it’s easy to invest in the extreme­ly bina­ry good vs evil sto­ry, but it’s all a lit­tle too straight and risk averse, rarely opt­ing to push the boat out with side-char­ac­ters, sub­plots or even pro­duc­tion design detail. The most inter­est­ing and unique char­ac­ter is Miran­da Otto’s Éowyn (she repris­es her role from the orig­i­nal tril­o­gy), who has a sin­gle short scene to demon­strate her prowess with a lit­tle tiny shield. It’s pre­dictably rous­ing, and Tolkien heads will prob­a­bly enjoy many of the call­backs to the orig­i­nal tril­o­gy, but as a film in its own right, it’s all a lit­tle overblown and unnecessary. 

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